


Azrael

by Delta (DeltaPenrose)



Series: RK1K Week (2020) [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amanda's A+ Parenting, Artist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Autistic Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has PTSD, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has Panic Attacks, Corpses, Discussion of Boundaries, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent Carl Manfred, M/M, Perfectionism, RK1K Week 2020, Soft Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeltaPenrose/pseuds/Delta
Summary: Markus introduces Connor to painting the way Carl introduced him to it, but it doesn't go as planned. Connor struggles with performance anxiety and perfectionism from his time with Amanda and CyberLife, and the idea of having to do his first painting with his eyes closed while someone else watches is enough to trigger a panic attack. Connor and Markus both learn that different people have different needs, and that's okay.------The rating and warning are because of a description of a painting that includes corpses.
Relationships: Carl Manfred & Markus, Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Established Connor/Markus (Detroit:Become Human)
Series: RK1K Week (2020) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936276
Kudos: 55





	Azrael

**Author's Note:**

> This is my (extremely late) piece for RK1K week prompt #1: Painting | Playing an Instrument.

Connor watched Markus add a stroke of orange to the canvas, carefully outlining the form of Carl’s wheelchair. He always liked being down here. Markus’ beautiful paintings surrounded him on all sides, and he had gotten to watch as Markus’ style shifted over time into something more…human.

It had begun with Markus almost behaving like a printer. His paintings were completed quickly, with only a handful of strokes and a highly efficient use of paint, but somewhere along the way, he’d begun to paint the background as a separate step. Then he’d started to let his brushstrokes imitate the physical shapes of the things he was painting. Connor thought it was an improvement, not because it was inherently better than Markus’ original technique, but because Markus himself seemed to prefer it.

After a while, Markus stepped back, looking at the canvas consideringly. Carl’s house looked back at him, warmly lit by brilliant, golden sunshine behind Carl’s form. It glinted off of the piano and his wheelchair, painting everything with a soft, welcoming light that gave an air of benevolent majesty. Carl gazed directly at the viewer as if measuring their soul. He seemed a kindly god, appreciating the offering that had been made to him. ‘ _Something has changed in the way you play_.’

“What do you think?” Markus asked.

“I like it,” Connor told him earnestly.

Markus snorted.

 _Fair_ , Connor thought. It was true though. Connor really did like all of Markus’ paintings.

Markus was looking at him thoughtfully in a way that made him feel inexplicably nervous. “What about you?” Markus asked eventually. “Why don’t you paint something?”

Connor blinked in shock. **_No_ ,** he thought vehemently. Dread coursed through his abdominal motors, and he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t the idea of painting that he had a problem with exactly… “Um.” He struggled to express his objections.

“Come on,” Markus encouraged. “It’s easy. I’ll help you.”

Connor felt like he was screaming inside his mind, but Markus wanted him to paint, and he didn’t really understand why he was so reluctant anyway. He didn’t see how he could refuse. He got off of his stool and stepped forward hesitantly.

LEVEL OF STRESS: 11%

“Here.” Markus handed him the pallet and brush and set a fresh canvas on the easel. “Close your eyes.” Connor shot him a startled look. Markus nodded reassuringly. “Trust me.”

It wasn’t that Connor didn’t. It was just…

Connor took a deep breath, braced himself, and shut his eyes. Markus had chosen to trust him not to betray androidkind. The least he could do was trust Markus back enough to let him lead Connor through completing a painting. It would hardly be fair to do otherwise.

He ignored the tiny voice in the back of his mind that said trust had nothing to do with it.

LEVEL OF STRESS: 26%

He decided immediately that he _hated_ having his eyes closed. He felt vulnerable, and he had no idea how he was supposed to paint like this when he couldn’t _see_ anything. Markus’ paintings were fairly realistic, and he didn’t know enough about the properties of the paints on his pallet to be able to use them without worrying about dripping or running out of paint during a stroke if he couldn’t see it. Any painting he made like this would be a sloppy _mess_ , and he couldn’t seem to rid himself of the pounding anxiety that came with just having his eyes closed in the first place no matter how hard he tried to shove it down.

He took deep breaths resolving to focus on one issue at a time. _Everything is okay_ , he tried to tell himself. _You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you. Markus is right here. He won’t abandon you. He won’t let anything happen to you_.

His mind remained thoroughly unconvinced.

LEVEL OF STRESS: 31%

“Try to imagine something that doesn’t exist, something you’ve never seen.”

Connor frowned. He couldn’t see how he was going to imagine anything at all at the moment, but something that didn’t exist?

There were a lot of things that didn’t exist, tachyons, for example, or the limit of tan(x) as x approached 0.5π, or dragons. Obviously, he had never seen any of them. _Am I supposed to paint one of them?_ Markus always painted scenes that depicted the real world in some way or another. Maybe he had misunderstood. He didn’t know how to pick one. _How am I supposed to do what you want when I don’t know what that is?_

LEVEL OF STRESS: 39%

“Now concentrate on how it makes you feel,” Markus continued, before he could figure it out, “and let your hand drift across the canvas.”

_Wait! Stop! I’m not ready yet!_

LEVEL OF STRESS: 55%

He was falling behind. He was _failing_. He was going to disappoint Markus. Markus wanted him to paint, and he wasn’t painting, and when he did, he knew it wouldn’t be good enough because he had no idea what he was doing or what Markus wanted.

He tried to breathe through the static clouding his mind. He was taking too much time. He had to do something soon. He would look ridiculous just _standing_ there in front of the canvas, but he didn’t know what to do!

LEVEL OF STRESS: 66%

 _I don’t want Markus to watch_ , he realized. His mind filled with self-recrimination at the thought. He watched Markus _all the time_. If Markus could put up with _his_ presence while he painted for _months_ , surely Connor could handle Markus’ this _one time_. He had never realized how awful he was being. He had no right to feel anxious, but that thought just added shame to the mix.

LEVEL OF STRESS: 78%

“Connor?” Markus prompted.

 _Sh**_. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

LEVEL OF STRESS: 86%

“Are you okay?”

He’d upset Markus. He wasn’t doing what he was supposed to do. This shouldn't have happened. He wasn't programmed to fail. How had he failed this badly at something as simple as _painting?_

LEVEL OF STRESS: 93%

He fought to keep from shaking. He couldn’t _breathe_. He felt shame and self-hatred and a buzzing static that filled his head until it crowded out his thoughts and all he wanted to do was run.

LEVEL OF STRESS: 95%

He just wanted everything to go away! He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. He _couldn’t!_

LEVEL OF STRESS: 100%

He let the pallet and brush clatter to the floor with a strangled gasp and ran.

“Connor!” Markus called after him, but he wasn’t listening. He had to get _away_.

A hand grabbed his wrist. “Let go! Let go of me!” He yanked at his hand in a panic, barely processing anything beyond the need to flee.

“Connor!” He knocked his attacker to the ground and fled the room, leaving Markus sprawled on the floor, staring after him in shock and wondering how everything could possibly have gone so wrong.


End file.
